


The Safest Place in the Universe

by RedSnow1



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Awesome Clara Oswin Oswald, Comfort, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, Hugs, Literal Sleeping Together, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Protectiveness, Romantic Fluff, Short & Sweet, Sleepiness, Soft Twelfth Doctor, Spooning, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Twelfth Doctor Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:41:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28720650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedSnow1/pseuds/RedSnow1
Summary: Sometimes, it’s hard to sleep. Especially when you are a two thousand-year-old Time-Lord. Especially when you have seen so many people die, some of them by your own hands. Sometimes, sleep doesn’t come. And maybe it’s for the best. Sometimes, you push it away, so you won’t be vulnerable.Sometimes you fear dreams because they remind you of whom you have lost. Those you have failed to save. That’s the trouble with unconsciousness : it’s hard to control./OS/
Relationships: Twelfth Doctor/Clara Oswin Oswald
Comments: 15
Kudos: 59





	The Safest Place in the Universe

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there friends!
> 
> Long time no see, but fear not, I have been quite busy writing and I hope you will see the outcome very soon! For now, let's settle with a nice, tooth-rotting fluffy story I had in mind for a while. I think I've stumbled upon similar stories, but I wanted to write one of my own, so bear with me.
> 
> I hope you will enjoy it, let me know if you did.
> 
> This story is un-betaed, and since I am French, you might find some mistakes here and there. I apologize for that. I'm trying my best ! But as always, a huge thank you to my friend @Persephonia1 and all my friends on Clara's Diner discord server
> 
> Now, happy reading!

Sometimes, it’s hard to sleep. Especially when you are a two thousand-year-old Time-Lord. Especially when you have seen so many people die, some of them by your own hands. The screams, the fear keeps you up at night, sweaty and regretfull.

Sometimes, sleep doesn’t come. And maybe it’s for the best. Sometimes, you push it away, so you won’t be vulnerable.

Sometimes you fear dreams because they remind you of whom you have lost. Those you have failed to save. That’s the trouble with unconsciousness : it’s hard to control.

The Doctor turns, tosses in his bed, unable to find a comfortable position. His mind is spiraling out of control, unwanted thoughts keep coming and there is no way to stop them. He has tried. He can feel a nightmare, crawling its way into his mind as he tries to fight it. To keep his eyes open. His body is numb with exhaustion, his limbs twitch. All he wants is to succumb to that peaceful state and yet, he knows it will shatter him. Every time he closes his eyes, he can hear them. The ghosts of his previous companions, screaming in agony. The cries of his people, dying in the Time-War. The poor people of Trenzalore, weeping over their dead. Guilt takes over, as it usually does. He pushes the covers aside : this won’t do. He can’t afford to be mopey, especially when the universe is at stake.

Instead, he walks around the TARDIS to find something to occupy himself with. Anything really, a bit of cleaning, an enjoyable book — anything to distract himself from the horrible nightmare hiding in the darkness. The one monster he can’t defeat. He wonders about, dwelling on his regrets, imagining what he could have done differently. His steps take him to her bedroom, where he knows she is sound asleep. He lingers in front of the door for a while. Clara has gone to bed early, completely shattered by their latest adventure, and he can’t blame her. He wishes she hadn’t though. The sight of her would have made him feel better, he knows it. It is her superpower : no matter how bad the situation is, as long as she is by his side, he knows everything will be alright. His hearts are racing in his chest, his hand shaking — will he dare? He sighs.

He knocks on the door four times. It’s always four times. She doesn’t answer, of course she doesn’t. She is probably too far gone, and maybe it’s for the best. So he slowly pushes the door open — just to catch a glimpse of his best friend. One look, and he will be gone. He just needs to make sure that she is alright. Just to remember that he has lost all of them, but she is still here, by his side, beautifully alive and gracefully asleep. His features soften : there she is, curled up in the middle of an oversized bed, tangled in a mess of pillows and blankets. Her breathing is slow and steady, and if he focuses enough, he can almost hear the calm beating of her heart. For some reason, it makes him feel calmer : seeing her there, well, alive. He doesn’t know how long he stays there, looking at her from the threshold, and quite frankly, he doesn’t care. Clara’s room makes him feel serene, at peace. It feels like her, smells like her. Feels like home. The minute his eyes had laid upon her silhouette in the dark, the weight on his shoulders had lifted.

“Bad dreams?” She whispers after a while.

He freezes, ashamed to have been caught. He has always respected Clara’s privacy : he has promised her. He has failed. Oh, what is he doing? Her voice is hoarse with sleep, her words barely audible. She doesn’t seem to mind him being here, or if she does, she says nothing. Her eyes are still closed as she wraps herself further into her blankets. He doesn’t answer, not wishing to disturb her rest more than he already has. His hand falls on the handle, ready to leave her when she shuffles on the right side of the bed and pats the other side. The Doctor tilts his head to the side, confused.

It’s an invitation. Quite a tempting one, too. Is it wise ? He asks himself. Probably not. But who, other than himself, would judge him? He takes a tentative step towards the bed, giving her more than enough time to change her mind. She doesn’t. He sits at the very edge of the mattress, stiff and awkward, wondering what comes next. 

“Lay down.” She orders, and he does as he is told.

He holds his breath. This bed, the texture of the blankets, the pillows against his head feel foreign and wrong. Everything is extremely warm, cozy, and the lingering smell of Clara’s perfume remains on the sheets. He stares at the ceiling of her room, amused to see a holographic projection of the stars. A gift from the TARDIS, he reckons. He counts them to keep himself busy, waiting for Clara to fall back into her slumber so he can leave. He has intruded on her enough. He already feels better.

“You are as stiff as a board.” She says, sounding a bit more awake.

She chuckles. He turns and sees her, eyes wide open, staring at him with her big brown orbs. She seems to be fighting to keep her lids open, her eyes fluttering shut more than usual. It’s quite charming. She smiles softly, and he can’t help but feel a foreign warmth spread in his stomach. But before he gets to indentify the source of such feeling, Clara slowly raises her hand and buries it between his locks, stroking lightly. A blissful smile is painted on her lips, and his heart-beat quickens. He has never seen her so close, so beautiful, so relaxed before. But again, they have never shared a bed until now. He closes his eyes, slightly flinching under her touch. This is way out of his comfort zone and yet, there is no fear inside him. Only the peacefulness of a starry night, the warmth of his companion. Her love and kindness keep his worries at bay. Her fingers trace the outline of his nose now, his lips tenderly and ever so lightly, humming in approval. She lingers on his cheek, tracing impossible forms on his skin. The Doctor can already feel his body relax under her touch, as if her presence alone had chased all the monsters lurking in the dark. After a while, her ministrations slow down, her hand falls flat on the mattress and in no time, she is sleeping again, her mouth slightly open. He chuckles lightly : this is something only Clara Oswald would do. But he wouldn’t have it any other way. With a steady hand, he removes a lock of brown hair from her forehead, and carefully, he rolls on his side, so his back is turned to her. Eyes wide open, he tries to empty his mind. Counts down to three billion. Starts again. Feels impatient. Begs the universe to let him sleep. Sighs loudly. Obviously, someone doesn’t want him to get any rest tonight. The Doctor carefully glances at Clara, making sure that she is still asleep while fomenting a plan to get out of the bed. He visualizes the path, remembers where the floor creaks and where her books are piled on the ground. However, he is stopped dead in his track as he feels a strong arm across his belly, and the front of a woman’s body pressed against his back. Clara sighs, her breathing down his neck, snuggled against him and keeping him close. He remains completely still, barely breathing. His mind is completely blank.

“I’m here. Sleep now” She whispers. “Goodnight, Doctor.”

He feels overwhelmed by the tightness of her embrace, by the feeling of her skin, the force of her love and the intimacy of the situation. His hearts are beating faster and faster, menacing to escape from his chest, his head is spinning. And then, Clara leaves the softest kiss down his neck, her nose buried in his locks and suddenly, nothing else matters. There is just her. Only her. 

“Goodnight, Clara.” He answers back, slowly.

The wave of emotions is replaced by a comfortable silence, a numbness he welcomes. He holds the hand placed on his belly, entwining their fingers. He feels safe, protected, wrapped up in Clara’s arms. Her body against him feels like a shield, her hand on his belly is an anchor, the warmth of her love pushes back the nightmares. The beating of her heart against his spine rocks him to sleep. He lets go in her arms, bathed by her kindness. The Doctor closes his eyes and surrenders. 

He doesn’t hear screams. He doesn’t see the war. He sees nothing, feels nothing — just her.

He falls asleep in her arms. 

It feels like the safest place in the universe.

  
  



End file.
